Who Would I Tell Without You
by Kadi219
Summary: Raydor/Flynn - Snitch episode addition. Sometimes, you just need a friend to talk to... especially when the nice, good looking guy finally asks you out.


**Who Would I Tell Without You**

 **By Kadi  
Rated K**

 **Disclaimer:** I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine! Oh but I wish that it was.

 **A/N:** Episode addition for 405 "Snitch". It was giddy and romantic, and just perfect. The thing is, what is the next level for them? What happens when your best friend asks you out? Who do you talk to about it?

For **kate04us** , **alyc96** , **OldFashionedGrl** , and **deenikn8** – Ya'll know why.

* * *

Even after leaving the office, Sharon still felt a little dazed about what had taken place in the Murder Room. The word _romantic_ was on a constant loop in her head while she tried to completely decipher what he meant by that. If she was honest with herself, she already knew exactly what he meant. That was the reason for her current state of astonishment. Andy had asked her to dinner a hundred different times in the last two years, and never with the sense of awkwardness that he displayed in the Murder Room.

It was casual, it was expected, and lately it was _different_. Sharon wasn't completely clueless, she knew _why_. It was the same reason that she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of him lately, and the underlying cause of why his smiles filled her with warmth. It was the sudden and inexplicable thrill that she felt when he touched her now, and the giddiness that she felt when she left the Murder Room earlier.

Dazed and giddy. Good heavens it was ridiculous. What was happening to her? She wasn't a girl anymore. She was a grown woman, well into middle age, and probably closer to the back end of that than she really wanted to think about. She could not believe that she was having the response that she was, and yet, it was real, both her excitement and the nervous energy that accompanied it.

Sharon was fully aware of the fact that she had been tossing signals at him for a few weeks now. This was what she wanted. She was just beginning to wonder if he was _ever_ going to ask. There was a small voice in the back of her mind that whispered that she had misread the signs. That couldn't be the case, though. She may have been out of the dating game for a good, long time, but that did not mean that she was unaccustomed to knowing when a man was interested in her. She was married, not dead. If there was one thing that she had known, since well before they actually became friends, it was that Andrew Flynn was interested. At least in that cursory sense that told her that he liked the way that she looked.

As they grew to know one another, and their relationship changed, Sharon had noticed that he became less obvious with the appraising looks. That had come from a place of caring, and respect. She had appreciated it, although she was vain enough to admit that she had always appreciated the way that his eyes would follow her. She understood the change in his behavior, though, because she had done much the same thing. He was an attractive man, and she had appreciated that fact on a number of occasions, although in her case, restraining herself also had something to do with the fact that she had become his boss.

At the same time, the fact that she couldn't get over was that he had actually asked. Finally. She was really reaching the point when she began to think that she might just need to drop a hint to his partner to tell him to man up and get it over with. She obviously could not ask _him_ , for a multitude of reasons. One of those being the fact that she was still, very much, his boss. The others were not nearly as important, but they did still matter. Among them Andy's old-fashioned sense of chivalry; no matter how badly she wanted this development, she couldn't find it within herself to take that away from him. He needed to do this for himself. Actually, he needed to do it for both of them, and now that he had, she could stop worrying about it.

Not that she was worried. She wasn't. Far from it. Sharon was feeling rather pleased, just also incredibly nervous. There were so many thoughts going through her head at the moment she couldn't quite see her way through all of them. It felt as though the very moment that she latched onto one of them, another would occur that was equally as important. She didn't care for feeling so scattered, and the best description that she could give herself at present truly was dazed.

It left her picking at her salad while she sat with Rusty, humming occasionally while he talked about the classes that he wanted to take when the fall semester began. They had stopped for dinner on their way home and opted for takeout rather than sitting among others. Her mind was definitely not on what he was telling her, and she felt a little guilty for that, but try as she might, she could not turn off the thoughts running through her head.

"Are you okay?" Rusty finally asked the question that he had been pondering since they left the PAB. Sharon was fine when they were talking in her office, and then she had gone to see Hobbs. When she returned, she seemed odd. It had only gotten worse as the night progressed. Rusty wasn't entirely sure, but she seemed incredibly fidgety. She also wasn't listening to him, and that was entirely unlike Sharon.

"Hm?" She looked up at him. Sharon blinked at him. "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry." She put her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. "My mind drifted for a moment. What were you saying?"

Rusty shot a bland look at her. "I said that I was going to drop out of college and sack groceries for a living so that I would have more time to write. I'm pretty sure that you don't think that is _an excellent idea, Rusty_ ," he said, mimicking the almost airy quality with which she had spoken. He shook his head at her. A smile was forming at his lips. "What is going on with you?"

"Nothing." Sharon picked up her fork again. She rolled her eyes, primarily at her own preoccupation. "I apologize, I suppose I was elsewhere for a moment. It won't happen again, please, keep going." She really hoped that he would, the last thing that she needed at the moment was for Rusty's stubborn sense of curiosity to kick in.

"You've been acting weird all night," he pointed out. Rusty leaned forward. "Was it Hobbs? Did she say something about my Vlog? She really is upset with me, isn't she? Sharon, if it's a problem..."

"No!" She shook her head at him. "Rusty..." She sighed quietly. God love him, she thought. She certainly did. He was her beautiful, bright, and oh so arrogant boy. Of course he thought that it was about him, and why wouldn't he? For much of the time that she had known him, Rusty had been very near to the center of her existence. Almost everything that she had done was for him, or about him. To empower him, and to keep him safe, and to make him feel loved. Oh but how that was about to change, and wouldn't he be surprised? She smiled fondly at him; her children would always be first in her heart, and the most important part of her life, but they were not the only people in it. "No," she said more gently, "I am a little distracted, but it has nothing to do with Andrea. Surprisingly," her smile grew wider, "it has nothing to do with you either. My mind is just... somewhere else tonight, that's all."

"Okay," he spoke carefully. Rusty wasn't sure that he believed her, and that showed in the peculiar look that crossed his face. "I've just seen you distracted before, that's all. This isn't distracted. It's odd. I just wondered if maybe something happened. One minute you were fine, and the next you weren't. I was talking to Lieutenant Flynn and..."

"What?" Sharon's eyes widened. She stared at him. "Did he say something? Not that there is anything to say. Nothing is wrong. Why?" Rusty was talking to Andy when she came back, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Andy was sitting on the edge of his desk, laughing with her son. They did that often. Rusty and Andy talked. Why wouldn't they? Oh god, had he said something? Had he told Rusty about their date? Her gaze drifted while she thought about it. Sharon stared at the table. Surely he would not. Would he? Was Rusty fishing for information because of something that Andy said, and now she was giving him the impression that she was trying to hide something from him. She wasn't, except for the fact that she was. Not necessarily to _hide_ it, but whatever was going to happen between her and Andy, she wasn't ready to discuss it with Rusty yet.

Rusty's brows shot up. He was more convinced than ever that something was going on. "You're freaking me out," he told her. Rusty waved a hand at her. "You. This, right here. _What_ is going on? Sharon, you are not acting like everything is okay."

No, she wasn't. That was something that Sharon was perfectly aware of. "I'm fine," she told him. Her eyes widened as the word echoed through her mind. _Fine_. Oh god, why had she told him that? The man finally asks her out, something that they both want, and her response is a simple _fine_? As if it were nothing at all unusual. As if it was just another day, and another dinner, and oh god. Sharon was also very aware of the fact that while her current behavior might be freaking Rusty out, she was also in the process of _freaking out_ at the moment. That was something that she simply did not do. "Rusty," as she spoke, Sharon stood up. She lifted her plate and walked toward the kitchen with it. "Nothing is wrong. Believe me when I tell you that. I simply have a lot on my mind right now, and none of it is bad. I'm not exactly ready to talk about it right now either," she added, because she could see him gearing up to ask that. She did love that boy, and she appreciated that he would make the effort, but _this_ was not something that they would ever talk about.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. Rusty just stared at her. When she met his gaze, her own unwavering, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed. He wouldn't push. He knew better. If Sharon didn't want to talk about something, she wouldn't. There was no getting around that. The only thing that would happen was that they would both get upset. He still wasn't sure what was going on with her, though. What he did know was that he wasn't exactly worried. He was... well... amused. She was acting weird, but not in a bad way. If he had to actually define it, he would say that she was acting... nervous, but an excited sort of nervous. That made him wonder why it had gotten worse when he mentioned Lieutenant Flynn. Rusty blinked. Oh. He folded his lips together and looked down at his dinner. "I understand, Sharon." His struggle not to laugh was a very real one.

Her shoulders slumped. He knew. Sharon saw the recognition in his eyes before he lowered his gaze. Of course he knew. He was her son, and he knew her. Perhaps he hadn't known her for very long, but Rusty could be very perceptive and he was good at reading people. She felt her cheeks flush with heat. Sharon grabbed her phone from where she had left it on the bar earlier and walked across the condo. She was going to her room; there was safety there. When she heard him snicker, she cringed. "Oh god." She moaned quietly.

When she reached her bedroom, Sharon pushed the door closed behind her. She flung herself across her bed with a sigh. She was, not exactly mortified, but this was not a situation that she ever imagined that she would find herself in. Dating, at her age, with a child at home. Not only that, but dating a man that she very much liked.

Suddenly her giddiness returned. The smile that curved her lips could not be suppressed, nor did she want it to be. Once again her thoughts were all over the place, especially when she considered how she answered him. Why in God's name had she said that? Fine? Sharon closed her eyes with a sigh. She reached blindly for a pillow and pulled it over her face. She groaned into it. Rusty was right, _what_ was going on with her? She certainly spent enough time thinking about that particular happenstance, but when faced with the moment, she felt as if she had... flamed out a little? Was she too old for this? Was it a mistake?

Sharon chewed on her bottom lip as her thoughts took a particularly sharp turn into uncertainty. She believed that she was ready for this, but maybe she was wrong. The need to discuss it, to have someone tell her that she was not losing her mind, that she was not too old, and that she could do this was so strong that she lifted her phone without thought. It was only after pushing the pillow aside and looking at the device that she realized she had automatically gone to a single contact.

Andy.

She sat up suddenly. Sharon stared at the phone in her hand. She felt a little breathless. She needed to talk about all of the things that were running through her mind, and all of the feelings that she was having at present, and she realized with a sense of complete astonishment that the one person she would turn to was the one person that she could _not_ talk to about this. He was the cause.

Suddenly the butterflies that were dancing in her stomach felt like humming birds, tying her in knots. She wanted her friend. Her gaze drifted from her phone to the floor. Her lips parted and the air that was in her lungs left in a rush. Sharon never considered, even for a moment, what she would be losing by going down this particular road. Now she was on it, and maybe this was her failing, but she had taken for granted that she would have _one person_ that she could count on to keep her from losing her mind, and second guessing herself, and falling down a rabbit hole of doubt and fear. Just _one person_ that always came to mind when she was excited and wanted to share it. _One person_ that always knew what to say to make her feel better when she was sad or uncertain. _One person_ that she wanted to talk to right now more than anything.

Well. Why couldn't she?

Sharon Raydor was not a woman that accepted, easily, that she could _not_ do something. If she wanted to talk to Andy, why not talk to him?

Yes, she was excited, and giddy, and nervous at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they were moving in a direction that was a little more personal than friendship. At the same time, he was her friend, her best friend lately. She had other friends, but none with whom she felt comfortable or interested in sharing her current mindset. That was rather the point, wasn't it? She wasn't interested in talking to them. She wanted to talk to _him_. If they were going to do this, and be at all successful at it, then they had to acknowledge what they already had.

The romance wasn't worth losing the friendship.

If she was willing to admit that she couldn't talk to him, when she most wanted to, and when she most _needed_ to, then she was already sacrificing their friendship and that was more heartbreaking than the thought of never exploring all of the possibilities that currently lay before them. It simply would not do.

Sharon grabbed her phone again and rose from the bed. She left her bedroom behind, and with her mind made up, she walked through the condo. "Rusty, I need to go out. I may be late coming back." She offered him little more explanation than that, but then he was used to her coming and going at all hours of the day and night for work. She would let him think what he wanted. It was only important that he knew that she would be back. Sharon gathered her keys and her purse, and before she could change her mind again, she left the condo.

She had the entire drive to consider what she wanted to say. In the end, though, Sharon had to consider if it was something that she wanted to rehearse? It wasn't as if she was going to be delivering a speech. She just wanted to talk to him, this man who was her friend and potentially so much more. It was for that reason that she decided that honesty would be the best approach; even if it was going to be uncomfortable. Perhaps especially if it was going to feel that way.

There was a certain level of awkwardness in this, a transition from the place where they had been to something that they both appeared to want to explore. That was, ultimately, the point, wasn't it? They both wanted to explore this new area of their relationship. It was as if a boundary had lifted. That did not mean that all the ground that they had already covered had to be forgotten.

Why couldn't a romance just be the extension of what they already had? Just because they were growing, did that mean that they had to change?

Sharon hoped that was not the case. She thought that by this point in both of their lives they had reached an understanding of who they were, what they wanted, and the best way to achieve that. Age did have some advantages, didn't it? Why then should finding romance at this point in their lives feel so utterly ridiculous?

Those were the thoughts that sustained her until she pulled her car to a stop in Andy's driveway. She sat, long after she turned off the engine, and stared at the small residence. It was a quaint little bungalow, and so completely suited to him. That was not what she needed to be thinking about, however, and she reminded herself that she was just thankful that the lights in the living room and kitchen were still on.

While she sat there she had to also acknowledge the fact that her heart was racing and that the butterflies were back. She chose to ignore them and gathered the resolve with which she had driven the several blocks to that location.

Andy wasn't expecting the knock that sounded at his door. He thought that he might hear from Provenza, since his partner knew just exactly _why_ he ended up hanging around long after the others left for the night. He hadn't called yet, but Andy was sure that was coming. He would want to know what happened, and more to the point if anything actually _had_ happened. Then he would have something to say about it, Andy was sure. He didn't think that he would drop by, though. For one, Provenza lived on the other side of town, and for another, well, he was probably with Patrice; that meant their conversation would likely wait until morning.

His surprise at finding Sharon on the other side of his door was genuine, two-fold. She wasn't a person who just _dropped by_. She always called first, and after they had talked earlier… well, it just wasn't expected. He was glad to see her that was the first thing that had crossed his mind. Especially considering that he had been thinking about her. Actually, he was thinking about her a lot lately. Now that he had actually managed to let _her_ know what he was thinking, he was turning the entire encounter over in his mind and trying to make sure that she understood his intentions _this time_. Andy thought that it was pretty obvious, but now that she was standing in front of him, he began to wonder if maybe he was wrong. Then he began to consider that in the couple of hours since they talked, she had time to change her mind.

When he realized that he was just standing there, staring at her like an idiot, Andy shook his head. He scratched his forehead and offered a small smile. "Hey."

"Hi." Sharon tugged the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and then smiled at him. "I'm sorry, I know it's late."

"No." Andy shook his head. "No it's fi… uh… it's okay." He stepped back and motioned her forward. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yes, thank you." She lowered her gaze and stepped into the house. Sharon moved past him while silently berating herself for how they sounded. Stilted. Polite. Completely awkward. That he had stuttered over the word _fine_ did not escape her notice either. That was her fault, she realized. She also had to acknowledge that the humming birds were back, beating a rhythm in her stomach. She toyed nervously with her hands as she looked at him. "Andy, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure. I was just making some coffee," he said. "Back in the kitchen okay?" He couldn't quite help it. He felt his shoulders slump. The disbelief that he felt earlier when she actually said yes to his dinner invite chose to rear it's ugly head. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he should have known. It was too good to be true. He had cornered her. She felt uncomfortable. Now she was ready to deliver the letdown that he expected to receive earlier.

Doubt, sadness and resignation. Sharon watched all of those things cross his face before he managed to close himself off. She felt her heart seize a bit. Her stomach clenched painfully. He didn't do that. Not with her. He was never afraid to show her when he was angry with her, or frustrated. Even when she was brusque, or pushed him aside, he showed her understanding. He was patient with her, and he waited. When she was ridiculous, he let her know, usually by rolling his eyes at her. What he had never done was completely close himself off to her. Not once in all of the time that she had known him. He yelled, he laughed, he pushed, and he waited.

Sharon was too stuck by that to act on it at first. By the time that she shook herself out of it, he had already turned away. She followed him into his kitchen and leaned against one of the granite-topped counters while he busied himself with the coffee. She could see the tension in his shoulders, and the way that he held his jaw. He was still waiting, just not necessarily for her, but rather what he was expecting her to do. Sharon rubbed her lips together while she considered her words. There was part of her that wanted to smack him; didn't he know her better than that? But then she had to consider that for as nerve wracking as this situation was for her, it must also be for him.

She had to wait for him to ask, but he had to take the risk that she would say no. Now he obviously thought that she meant to. She watched him with the coffee and hummed quietly when he went to place the coffee beans back in the freezer. Like her, he preferred to grind his own. She shook her head at him, though, since that was where their bean preferences stopped aligning. "I cannot believe that you are still putting them in the freezer." Had she not educated him on that front?

"Yeah, well." Andy closed the freezer door. He shrugged as he walked over to pull down two mugs. "I guess I do a lot of things that don't exactly put us on the same page."

The sarcasm in his town made her smile. There was her guy. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes that is true." Sharon clasped her hands in front of her and tilted her head at him. "Other times… I would say that we are usually very attuned to what the other is thinking."

Andy grunted quietly. He poured two cups of coffee and slid one of them toward her. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?" He eyed her carefully. She could be such an enigma to him. For example, she seemed nervous when she arrived, but now she seemed perfectly okay. It could have been any number of one of their other chats. Only he was sure that it wasn't.

"In part." She lifted the coffee and wrapped her fingers around the warming ceramic mug, more because she wanted something to hold than because she really wanted coffee at this late hour. "I really just felt like I needed someone to talk to, is that okay?"

She looked so earnestly at him that Andy couldn't stop the flutter of his heart. His jaw clenched for a moment and then he sighed. He leaned against the cabinet adjacent to her and nodded quietly. "Yeah," he said. "Is…" Andy didn't even know where to begin. On the one hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she would say, and on the other, it wasn't in him to turn her away. "Is everything okay?"

Her lips pursed. Sharon looked into her coffee. "Rusty asked me the same thing. I told him that nothing is wrong. I don't think there is." She lifted her gaze and looked pointedly at him. "I just can't exactly talk to Rusty about what is on my mind. When I did look for someone to call, I realized that I have a very serious problem."

His brows drew together in a frown. Andy shook his head. He wasn't sure that he was following her. She didn't seem upset, or really all that pensive. If he had to gauge her mood, he would say that it was curious, and maybe a bit nervous too. Where she was going with this train of thought still worried him, but now he was concerned about _her_ , rather than himself, at least a little. "What is it?"

She sighed softly. Suddenly she felt awkward again. Sharon averted her gaze and looked down once more. She ran her finger around the mouth of her coffee cup and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "You," she said softly. "I wanted to call you, but I can't talk to you _about you_. It made me wonder if… I started to think that…" Her eyes closed for a moment. She had to give in to her own uncertainty and when she did, she looked up at him with shining eyes and a small smile. "How are we going to do this?" She asked him.

"I guess maybe…" He shrugged. "I kind of need to know what it is you're talking about first. How are we going to do what? Sharon, I'm not entirely sure anymore that we are on the same page. You're going to have to say it." He had been picking up her signals and working on his response, and now he had to question if maybe he had gotten them all wrong.

She supposed that was fair. She had decided that honesty was the best option for the night, hadn't she? Sharon placed her coffee mug on the counter beside her and turned to face him more fully. "You and I," she explained quietly, "dating. You'll talk to Lieutenant Provenza," she acknowledged, "if you haven't already. That's okay, I understand that," she trusted them to keep it out of the Murder Room. "Andy, when I got home tonight my mind was all over the place. I needed a sounding board, and when I reached for my phone, my first thought was of you. I call _you_ when I need to talk. Yes, I have other friends," she said, and waved a hand between them, dismissing that thought. "I didn't want them. What bothered me, was the thought that…" She shifted where she stood, because saying it was hard. She had admitted it to herself, but giving voice to her concern made it real. "I don't want to lose you," she said thickly. When he looked away from her, she took a step forward. Sharon laid a hand on his arm. "That doesn't mean that I don't want to move forward."

He expected her to let him down gently, and thought she was doing just that. Once again she managed to surprise him. Andy stared at her. There was an emotion in her eyes that he had never seen before. The delight that he thought he saw earlier wasn't imagined, and he felt a little gratified to know that he hadn't so completely misread her. At the same time, he was shocked by what he read in her gaze. It was a little hard to find his voice, and so he ended up quietly rasping her name. "Sharon." There was fear in her gaze, but determination. He thought that he even saw a little bit of hope, and something else that he couldn't quite define, something that he wasn't sure that either of them could define this early in the game. "I…"

His inability to speak sent a smile curving across her lips. Her eyes lit with it. "Yes," she agreed. "Me too. Which is exactly what I needed you for earlier." Sharon's eyes sparkled. She took another step forward. "You see, there's a guy," she began, her voice lilted softly, "and I really like him. He makes me laugh," she said, "and he drives me crazy. Sometimes I just want to shake him, but most of the time, he's really wonderful."

"I see." Andy scratched his forehead. He shrugged at her. He was glad that he hadn't spoken to Provenza yet. Now that she had put it out there for him, he could see the dilemma. Perhaps that's what his problem had been. He had been trying to figure out what to do, and all he had was himself and his cranky partner, who basically expected him to figure it out for himself. That was all he could do, really. No one could make this decision for him, but there had not been anyone to really _talk_ to, or just to listen while he worked his way through it. Now he understood why. He couldn't talk to Sharon about _dating Sharon_. Outside of Provenza, she was whom he typically spoke to about a lot of topics. Provenza was still his go-to guy for a lot of things, but yeah, more often than not when he picked up his phone she was the one that he dialed. "I don't know," he drawled, "he doesn't sound so bad." He squinted at her and fought the urge to grin. "Sounds pretty damned great to me. What are you waiting for?"

"Hm." Her lips folded together. The urge to smack him was very prevalent, but she managed to refrain. "I had to wait for him, actually. He works for me. My hands were tied." Sharon arched a brow at him. She gave him a very pointed look. "He did finally manage to ask the question, although I thought I was going to have to tell a mutual friend of ours to prod him along."

"Well," he lifted his coffee for a sip. His dark eyes were twinkled merrily at her. "It can be intimidating. Try looking at it from his point of view. Asking a beautiful woman out is like volunteering to get kicked, especially if you really like her. You make the reservations, plan what you're going to say, rehearse it for a week, and she can still turn you down. It's tough being a guy. Take my evening for example." He put the coffee mug aside and waved his hand at her. "I put myself out there for this woman. Great lady, hard to read sometimes, but smart as hell, and did I mention beautiful? I finally figured it was now or never, right? Well, I did it. The best thing that she could come up with to say was _fine_."

"Oh god." She covered her face with both hands. She could feel the blush. "You actually went there. You could not let me have that one?" Sharon dropped her hands. She let them fall to her sides with a groan. "I know. I'm sorry! I froze. I admit it. My mind went blank. I looked for a word, and that was the only one I had, so that was what you got."

"True." He nodded slowly. "Another word does come to mind, so I think I'll take that one and be happy about it." Andy shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged at her. "I don't know what you want me to say. I guess I never really thought about it like that."

"Neither did I." She was close enough now to reach out and play with the end of his tie, which she did. "What I don't want is for you to think that I've changed my mind, but it's important to me that we not lose what we already have. If we can't talk about this, then I'm afraid we already have. The thing is, we haven't done that." She lifted her gaze from his tie and arched a brow at him. "We haven't talked about _this_ ," she gestured between them, "but I don't want to overthink it either. Does that make sense?"

"It does." He wrapped his hand around her wrist. Andy tugged her hand away from his tie. He shook his head at her and grinned. She was getting into such a habit of that. He honestly didn't mind it. "It makes a lot of sense, but I don't know how we're going to know if we can do it if we don't try." Andy held her hand in his and let his thumb stroke over her palm to the inside of her wrist. "So," he thought about it, "maybe what we do is just take it one date at a time."

"That might be best." Her gaze fell to their hands. Her skin was tingling, with tiny sparks of warmth shooting up her arm from where his thumb was lazily, gently caressing the skin just below her watchband. Yes, she very much wanted to explore where that might take them. It was a delightful feeling, the way that warmth spread through her at an unhurried pace. "We keep talking." She had to drag her gaze back to his. "It may be awkward, but I think that it's important."

Unsettling her in this manner was far more entertaining than her previous anxiety. He gave her arm a gentle tug and pulled her just as close as he could without their bodies colliding. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a crooked grin, the one that he had come to realize she couldn't say no to. "I think we can do that. There's not actually a lot that I think we can't do, Sharon. We just have to figure it out. As long as we're both willing."

"I am." She moved just a step closer, until she was just as close as she could be without touching him. She looked down again. She curled her fingers around his hand and held it. "It is a little overwhelming," she admitted, "but it is not unwanted. My head is still all over the place, but I know what I want."

When she looked up at him again he watched the play of the light in her eyes. He gave her hand a squeeze and then he jerked his head toward the kitchen table. "Then sit down, let's talk about it."

She flashed a brilliant smile at him. Even if they stumbled over the entire conversation that was exactly what she wanted to do. It was what she _needed_ to do. She thought that maybe he did too. Her eyes were alight with pleasure when she stepped back from him to lift her coffee again. "It might take a while," she warned him.

Andy shrugged at her. "I've got all night. No where else I need to be." He moved toward the table with her. His hand hovered against her back. "Besides, who else am I going to talk to? You're already here."

She laughed. There was the charm. Yes, her guy was back, and in fine form. She took the seat at the table that he held for her and waited for him to join her. She leaned forward against the table and wrapped her hands around the cup again. It took her a moment to find a place to start, but once she did, the words tumbled out and with surprising lucidity.

Over the course of the next two hours, they both gave voice to the concerns and hopes, and all of the things that they had been holding close to the vest for quite some time. The friendship would be the basis of this romance. It was comfortable and sure, and as they voiced their doubts they came back to it. They both had failed marriages and grown children, mistakes in their pasts, and hurts that had left marks on their hearts. They were older than they wanted to be, and they had to work together. Or rather, he had to work for her.

It was the professional concern that was the least of her troubles. She trusted herself, and she trusted him, and they would stumble, but find their way. She was more troubled by having to report them, although she would. There were few that she let into her private sphere, and Russell Taylor was not one of them. Andy felt much the same way, and had other reasons for disliking the man. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of letting him know something so personal about them, but he agreed, it had to be done. They could handle the work side of things. They knew how to be cops. They'd been doing it long enough.

A date at a time; it was the only way that they could handle any of their relationship. Exploring all of the possibilities that lay ahead of them was exciting, in many ways, but they would do it with the knowledge that there was a safety net beneath them. The possibilities in front of them were endless, and as they moved from one level to another, finding that step was made easier by understanding that they were not alone. They still had each other. They could find their way, as long as they were doing it together.

 _ **Fin**_


End file.
